The stroking was going to make it too much, too soon. His fingers were curled into the thighs under and behind him, his head still tilted back, eyes closed. If he could hold on, and just focus on moving himself up and down? There were still little noises with each movement, unable to hold that back, but when Joseph started to move himself, Rhys cried out more.
His hands came to land on his lover's stomach instead, spurring himself into faster movements, more controlled, but his head was hung down and he could see Joseph's face through his lashes. Of course, that simple reposition changed the angle, his back arching forward instead of backwards, changed the way he was able to move. It was different, but not lesser. Even the rhythm changed, going to something of a rougher way, faster. He was going to lose it, more quickly than he thought.